


Trouble In A Broom Cupboard

by leigh_adams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Broom Cupboard, F/M, Ministry of Magic, Snark, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/pseuds/leigh_adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the broom cupboards in the whole of London, it was only fitting she'd be locked in one with Zacharias Smith, Unspeakable and supreme prat extraordinaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble In A Broom Cupboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elle Blessingway (elle_blessing)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_blessing/gifts).



> This is just a little birthday present for my dearest [elle_blessing](http://elle_blessing.livejournal.com). Happy birthday, my darling! I pulled the pairing and prompt from your [Humpfest 2013](http://hp-humpdrabbles.livejournal.com/114543.html?thread=812399#t812399) wishlist, but tweaked their backstory from their canon at PS. I hope you have the happiest of birthdays and hope you enjoy this. Love you, my dear! ♥

"Oh, _bollocks_."

"Thought pretty little ladies like yourself weren't supposed to use foul language?"

Astoria huffed and glared at the spot where the voice had spoken from -- not that her companion could see, but the effect was still there. It didn't matter that she'd been locked in a _broom cupboard_ for the better part of an hour (or so she thought), her eyes had yet to adjust to the inky darkness surrounding them. 

Of all the broom cupboards in the whole of London, it was only fitting she'd be locked in one with Zacharias Smith, Unspeakable and supreme prat extraordinaire. The same Unspeakable who, since their encounter at the White Chapel gala the previous month, she'd been unable to stop thinking about.

And it was _infuriating_.

"If you have nothing useful to contribute, Mr. Smith," she said in a clipped tone, "then it would behoove you to remain silent."

She could almost _feel_ his smirk. It was a ridiculous notion, but Merlin be damned, it was true. Of course, the cupboard they'd found themselves locked in was no bigger than a shoe box. With the two of them flattened against opposite walls, there was nothing but a few scant inches separating them. 

He chuckled then. "Where would the fun in that be, sweetheart?"

"I am _not_ your sweetheart," she shot back, causing his amusement to grow. "Be careful with the licenses you take."

"Or what?" he asked in a voice rich with amusement. "You'll rip me up with your little kitty cat claws?" He paused. "I might like that."

Astoria felt a tic in her jaw. Her meeting with Lysander Montague had run over schedule -- though really, they'd finished "work" within ten minutes. The rest of their meeting had involved gossip, fashion, and wedding details. With the head of the Invisibility Task Force overseeing her next planned gala _and_ marrying her best friend, there was always much to discuss.

And, while she would never admit it, Astoria had found herself lost when trying to leave the Ministry. It was the only reason her mind would accept for how she'd wound up _here_.

Near the Department of Mysteries.

Locked in a broom cupboard.

With Zacharias Smith.

Damn him.

"Face it, kitten," he said with all the ease of a man completely at his leisure -- as if he were _enjoying_ their current situation. He was an indefensible arse, though, so that likely wasn't too far from the mark. "Until the cupboard decides to let us go, we're stuck here."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean? Until the cupboard decides?"

The shifting of cloth signaled his shrug. "You know how old magic can be, sweetheart --"

"-- _Not_ your sweetheart."

He ignored her. "This close to the Department of Mysteries, things take on a mind of their own. Doors won't unlock, your wand can't get the job done."

"I imagine performance issues are quite a common event with you, Mr. Smith." Immediately, her cheeks colored. Daphne would be appalled to hear her jesting so freely -- and bawdily -- with a man of Zacharias Smith's reputation. It was _not_ the way a Greengrass woman was taught to speak.

Her cousin could, ever so politely, stuff it. 

"Never heard any complaints before," he replied easily. "Course, it might be waiting for us to do... something."

"Oh?" One manicured brow rose in question. "And what might you suggest? Dancing a jig?"

Zacharias chuckled again, a low rumbling that ran along her skin. Her body was keenly aware of his; the top of her head barely reached his chin, and with the closeness of the walls around them...

Well. It sufficed to say, Astoria could not help but think of anything _but_ him. And that was a _very_ bad thing.

"Don't think there's enough room for that sort of dancing, kitten." He moved towards her ever so slightly and planted a hand beside her head, braced against the wall. "Another sort of dance, maybe."

She swallowed and looked up to where his face was hidden. Her breathing shallowed at the thought of having an indiscretion with him _here_. Astoria had more than enough experience with hopping from bed to bed, but that had been years ago. She'd been young and reckless with a taste of the wrong sort of men.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem that she'd had enough of that taste, if she were truly even thinking about that. "No," she breathed on an exhale, reason taking hold over her traitorous body.

He heard the conflict in her tone and seized on it. "Are you sure about that?" Zacharias's head ducked down towards hers, close enough that she could taste the mint on his breath. She knew that if she reached up to touch his face, she'd feel the stubble from having missed a shave. 

She knew if she did that, she was lost.

Reason fled, and her body acted on instinct. Turning her face up towards his, Astoria moved to close the gap between them...

...right as the cupboard door flew open and light flooded the tiny room.

"Smith?" A female voice, dripping with disdain, was like a cold bucket of water poured over her head. Astoria jerked back and hit the wall, pain jolting through her body when her elbow connected with the concrete. 

"Come off it, you fuckwit. Get tired of confining your shags to your office?" 

"McDonald." Now that her eyes had adjusted, Astoria could see who'd discovered them -- Auror Natalie McDonald, her hair a violent shade of pink not found in nature. 

Zacharias rolled his eyes. "Charming as ever, Nat."

"C'mon, we're late for the briefing with Kingsley -- and he can chew _your_ arse out this time." Without waiting for him to follow, she turned on her heel and stormed off towards the lifts.

He cast amused eyes down at Astoria, who was doing her best to _not_ look at him as she collected her handbag and smoothed her skirt. "Saved by the bell, kitten." He ran a finger down her cheek and smirked. "To be continued."

"I wouldn't count on it." Brown eyes flashed irritably up at him. "This will not happen again."

Zacharias laughed. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart." Grabbing his wand from a shelf, he headed towards the lifts where his Auror partner was waiting. Pausing at the open doors, he glanced over his shoulder and blew her a kiss. "See you soon, Ms. Greengrass."

Astoria huffed as the lift doors slid shut. 

She was _so_ in trouble.


End file.
